Life is like a game. And the cheat code to that game? There is none. So everybody is stumbling along, trying to figure things out all at the same time. Nobody has all the answers. And that's what makes it so hard.

Love is like that. Day after day, constant questioning, arguing, irritability and confusion. Sometimes you just want to forfeit.

Today, Marvin is just coming home from work. It's uncomfortably warm out for springtime, which combined with his feelings about Trina's recent news, doesn't make for a very pleasant exchange of words when I greet him at the door.

"I am so fucking exhausted right now," he says as he's walking in. "Do you know what we're doing for dinner?"

"I'll make something in a bit," I tell him, leaning against the wall. "How was your day? You know, besides the whole hot weather and being hung up on your ex-wife thing you've got going on."

He glares at me. "Quit being funny, Whizzer. Ugh. I need to relax."

"So, not good," I mutter, following him into our living room. I spot the chess board on the table by the couch. "Hey. You up for a little game?"

He blinks his tired eyes at me. "What?"

"Of chess." I pick up the board and hold it out in front of me. "Come on. It might get your mind off of things."

"I need that right now, don't I?" He sighs. "All right. One game. Let's set it up."

By the time we get the game set up and are sitting on either side of the table, he seems to be in better spirits. Marvin is kind of competitive. I figured playing the game would help him feel more like himself.

"That's the king," Marvin tells me, indicating my king piece. "Treat him nice. You know, protect him."

I frown. "Yes, I know." I'm about to make my move, but then pause. I don't know where to start.

"Are you all right?" It seems like he's asking more out of impatience than concern.

"I'm fine," I exhale, looking at my pieces. Questioning. I glance up at Marvin. "You don't need to watch me. I can do it."

"Have a little scotch," Marvin says teasingly as I reach out to move the pawn.

"Shit!" I blew it.

We've just started the game, and already it's becoming clear to me that this wasn't such a great idea after all. Marvin watches me stare at my pieces.

"Do you want my help?"

I tense up. "No, I don't. Stop patronizing me. I can think this through myself. I just need..." I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. "I just need to focus."

Marvin shakes his head. "Just start again, Whizzer. We've seen the worst."

"Fine," I answer, glowering as I move the piece back. "I'm taking the first turn."

"Sure."

And so we're back at the beginning, Marvin waiting for my first move as I try to analyze it in my head. This doesn't feel as casual as it did before. It feels serious. And I don't like it.

"Move a pawn," Marvin says finally, tapping his leg impatiently.

I look up at him mocking innocence. "Where?"

"There."

"Here?"

"Oh, stop it, Whizzer, I know you're being difficult on purpose. No, not the queen."

"Who?" I ask. Arguing.

He gives a sigh. "Jesus," he swears under his breath.

I hesitate before taking the pawn from my side and moving it forward. Marvin looks at it and nods.

"Good first move."

"Quite alright," I say, playing along. "Go ahead, then. Take a turn."

"Right. Thank you."

He doesn't move. I wait a little longer. He's still staring at the board, just like I was a second ago.

I smile a little. "Move the pawn," I remind him.

"Can you shut up for a second?"

"Aw, come on. Here, take my hand." I hold it out. He takes it, and slowly I move his hand with mine, picking up one of his pieces. "Play the game!"

"God, you're pretty," he says, letting go of my hand.

"More's the pity," I retort to piss him off. "Since you need a man—"

"What?" He sounds surprised. And there's a hint of something else in his tone.

"—who's brainy," I finish, glancing at him.

"Witty, perhaps," he remarks. And then whatever playfulness was there is gone and he says, "Move."

I sigh. "Where?"

"There."

"How should I behave myself?" I ask sarcastically. Irritability. "Maybe we should just call it quits."

"Whizzer—"

I stare at him. "Let me win."

He sits up straight, raises his eyebrows. "Fine," he says finally. "Yes. I'll let you win."

"Thanks." I make my next move, and he makes his, and we both know where this is going.

I can hardly hear him when he says, "Wait," because I know that I'm just one move away from—

"Ha!" I set down my piece. "Whizzer wins! Checkmate."

Marvin says nothing. He's just sitting there, looking at the chess board, at my winning move, and frowning. Then he gets up, and he walks away. Maybe he's just going to get something, what, I'm not sure. I stay where I am, glancing around the room, drumming my fingers on the table to busy myself. He still hasn't come back.

"Marvin!" I call. "This isn't funny anymore. Marvin?"

Still no reply. Finally, I can hear his footsteps returning down the hall.

I sigh loudly. "Marvin, it was just a..." I trail off when I see what's in his hand. It's a suitcase. It's my suitcase. And when I look up to see his face, he is staring at me expectantly. Confusion.

And then, suddenly, it makes sense.

"Did I not do enough for you?" is the first thing I ask him. "Did I not make the dinner enough? Or am I supposed to be a patsy, to lose at chess, just like how you want me to?"

He doesn't say anything in response.

I'm started to get more irritated. "You know? You were right. Somebody's got to put a stop to this. I guess we were just fooling ourselves, weren't we, Marvin?"

"I guess so," Marvin replies.

"I guess so!" I stand up and grab the suitcase from him. "This is coming to an end. All of it. I'm done."

And with that I head off to pack.